Ten Seconds
by GingerbreadPoppet
Summary: It occurred to me that Mike and Connie may have run across each other at least once before they started working together. This is my take on that "once." Also: usual disclaimer - not mine; property of Dick Wolf and NBC.


**Ten Seconds**

The first time they met wasn't an occasion she remembered afterwards. He didn't blame her. It had taken all of ten seconds, her thoughts had been elsewhere and, okay, _technically_ it wasn't even a meeting. Not as such.

For his part, though, he remembered it clearly. He even told her about it, exactly two years later, during one of those first evenings spent at his apartment, watching her rattle around in his kitchen, searching for a spatula, while he marveled at the certainty that if he went up to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind (as he had done only a few minutes ago) she would again turn to him, smiling, make a pointed remark about his lack of domesticity, and respond to his kisses with kisses of her own.

He'd seen her only once before their formal and – as far as she was still concerned – first meeting following his promotion to EADA. He'd been in a meeting with Arthur Branch, laying out the particulars of the current prosecution of a drug ring and expressing his considered opinion that the presiding judge was "a certifiable moron." Branch had agreed – both with Mike's tactics and his assessment of Judge Bedell – before reminding Mike that Bedell was notoriously quick to take offense, and cautioning him to tread softly in court.

The phone had rung on Branch's desk and he'd picked up it, glanced at his watch, and thanked the caller before turning back to Mike.

"I have another appointment, and this one won't wait." A resigned sigh had followed, as if Branch was mentally putting on armor for battle with whoever he was to meet next. "We done here?"

"Yep. I'll let you know how it goes today." Mike had stood, picked up his briefcase and walked to the door. He'd opened it and stepped into Branch's waiting area, realizing as he did so why Branch had looked ready for trouble.

Jack McCoy was pacing up and down the length of the waiting area, clearly on the warpath. Mike knew McCoy mostly by reputation, although they had met and spoken on several occasions. McCoy reached the far end of the room, pivoted, and turned back before glancing at Mike. He nodded at him in greeting and Mike returned it before tilting his head in the direction of the D.A.'s office.

"He's all yours, Jack."

McCoy's glance shifted towards the door. He was definitely displeased about something. "Good." He turned to Branch's assistant, Laura. "When my A.D.A. gets here with the Forden subpoena, would you tell her to come right in?" Then he walked past Mike, into Branch's office and shut the door firmly.

It was as Mike was shrugging back into his coat (he'd stopped by after court and was due back in half an hour) that he heard a voice behind him ask, slightly exasperatedly, after McCoy.

He turned to see a tall, dark-haired woman had entered the office. She'd bent her head and was reading a file that she held in her hand (a subpoena, by the looks of it), and as she looked up and directly at him he felt like the ground had just dropped out from beneath him. She was gorgeous; he was captivated. He paused, one arm only halfway through the sleeve of his wool coat, and gazed back at her, wondering absently how McCoy ever managed to concentrate, how he managed to get any work done if he was working with someone who looked like that.

The woman held Mike's gaze for a moment and then smiled at him, politely but briefly. "Excuse me."

He realized with a start that he was blocking her path to the door and stepped back, allowing her to pass, turning to watch her as Laura waved her into Branch's office – dimly aware that he was gawking. A sudden voice made him jump.

"She has that effect on a lot of men."

He looked from the closed office door in the direction of the voice. It was Laura. She had a small smirk on her face as she watched him.

He finished shrugging into his coat, business-like once again. Professional. "Excuse me?"

"Connie Rubirosa. Jack's A.D.A.. You're not the first one to have that reaction."

Mike suppressed a sigh. Laura, however nice she was, adored gossip and he realized quickly that he had about ten seconds to preempt a story beginning with the words "you should have seen Mike Cutter when Connie Rubirosa walked in the room…" So he gazed at Laura impassively, shook his head, and affected a wide, gosh-darn-it-aren't-I-just-the-worst smile, the lie following smoothly. "I just remembered something I meant to mention to Arthur. It'll keep." He knew that he sounded convincing. Sounding convincing was his job, after all. In fact, he had proven to be convincing enough, and with enough frequency, that he suspected there was a promotion heading his way.

He left the office and make a command decision to put the woman he'd just seen (Carrie, was it?) out of his mind. It wasn't as if he'd be working with her, which was probably for the best, come to think of it. Nor was he going to seek her out otherwise – she'd barely noticed him and he was no glutton for punishment. Anyway, he was seeing someone. Several someones, actually; he had no time for anything serious.

By the time he arrived in court he'd almost forgotten her. When he met her again, nearly a year later, she smiled at him again. He remembered.

"Connie Rubirosa," she'd said, extending her hand.

He'd smiled back and was lost.


End file.
